From the Mess to the Masses
by Oscillating Fan
Summary: A series of one-shots following with For Gentlemen Only.  It isn't necessary to read these for FGO but it is necessary to read FGO to understand these shots.
1. Clyde Courier Service

**A/N:** Big 'ole one to kick this whole thing off! This fic isn't actually a fic but a collection of one-shots. From the Mess to the Masses is part of what I'm calling the Lisztomania-verse, which includes For Gentlemen Only. For Gentlemen Only is the main fic and is a bit necessary to read in order to understand what is going on in these one-shots. You don't have to read the one-shots. I wrote them because some of the chapters were feeling bogged down with scenes that were great for showing character interaction but I thought detracted from the overall plot. They're just really fun scenes and alternative view points that I wanted to write.

Each will be titled by a song because I'm a music nerd. I hope you guys enjoy them!

From the Mess to the Masses

01: Countdown

Clyde, the best friend to the disinterested with his best interest at heart or the biggest cock block ever?

* * *

><p>He had only been at his locker for five minutes before he felt the tap on his shoulder. Inside he groaned; outside he adopted a cheery grin before turning around.<p>

Interesting, he thought as he studied the blonde haired girl in front of him. She was a head shorter than he was with brown eyes and loose ponytail. She wasn't too bad looking, maybe could have used some braces, and needed to quit hugging her binder and English textbook like they were a fucking life preserver. He vaguely registered that she was a sophomore and probably from Middle Park judging by the convenience store receipt she was using as a book mark. Middle Park was the only town in Park County with that particular chain in it.

_Not too bad, Craig_, he grinned at her. "What's up…" He left his question open ended signaling that he didn't know her name.

"Kelly," she shyly smiled back and tucked some hair behind her ear.

"Kelly, right," he nodded and stuck his thumbs through the straps on his back pack. "How can I help you?"

She giggled nervously and produced a letter from her binder. "Um, I know this is awkward but could you maybe give this letter to your friend, Craig Tucker, for me?"

He peered at it without taking it wearing an expression of curiosity on his face. Sometimes he wondered if he should actually give Craig one of these letters. Just to see what he'd do. Would he be nice enough to turn her down in person or through a letter of his own? Did he even know this girl?

For that matter did he even like girls? Clyde genuinely didn't know. He did know that Craig had frenched a girl in, like, seventh grade or something but it's been pretty much radio silence since then. He didn't even seem to register the conversation when they were sitting around Token's or Tweek's house watching DVDs and comparing actresses. What type of person did Craig like?

Wait. Person?

Was Clyde really about to sit here and debate his best friend's sexuality?

It was a good question, though. If Craig did bat for the other team what kind of guy did he go for? Ugh, what if he was one of those suffer in silence over their crushes types? That'd mean _he_ could be a likely candidate for a crush. Clyde had to work very hard to repress the shudder that thought induced.

The girl blinked and shifted nervously in front of him. He widened his smile and titled his head to the side.

"I'm sorry, but trust me," he tried to look genuinely sympathetic, "I don't think he'll look at it."

She leaned back hesitantly with shock on her face. "Well, why not?"

Clyde glanced at the letter again and crossed his arms over his chest. "Just trust me. It's better to just forget it. Okay?"

She looked down at her feet and licked her lips before glancing at him again. "Am I not his type?"

Clyde took in a sharp breath and pondered the answer to that question. He looked at her from the top of her blonde head down to the pointy Mary Janes on her feet. Not likely.

"I'm really sorry."

She slowly withdrew the letter and tucked it back into her binder before nodding her head. He watched as she walked away. Whether Craig liked boys or girls was none of his concern. What he was concerned about was the fact Craig showed no interest in the usual things other guys his age were interested in. He suddenly wanted to see Craig walking through the halls of the school with his arm around someone else's shoulder. He wanted to see Craig flustered at Homecoming over looking good for his date. He wanted to invite Craig over to do things or try to make plans only to have him say "Sorry, I promised So-'N-So we'd go out." He wanted to see him fighting with a chick in the middle of the cafeteria. He wanted to make fun of him catching him literally in a closet with his lips glued to some guy's face. He wanted to see him get so worked up over somebody no one in their group of friends would know what to do about it.

He grinned at the thought. It'd never happen.


	2. Manifest Destiny

From the Mess to the Masses

02: Lasso

Kevin and Clyde convince Craig to drive them out to North Park for the big Spring Break party.

* * *

><p>It was the dream again. The one where he was underwater, able to breathe, and sitting on a rock. Koi and clownfish circled him with one side of pieces of kelp and sea weed in their mouths while he held the other end. It made for a bizarre maypole but Craig's role was important – he was counted on by the fish to keep everyone under control.<p>

He was also counted on to sing the maypole dance song.

He had just messed up the chorus for the third time and the fish were beginning to get mad at him. Three koi dropped their ends of make-shift rope and swam towards him with slow deliberation.

_What_, his dream self asked feeling incredibly uneasy under their steady stares.

All three wriggled to a stop a mere foot from his face simultaneously. He was about to ask again for them to talk to him, please, when they all opened their mouths and began making the most obnoxious, shrilling sound he ever heard. He cringed, placing both hands over his ears, while the rest of the fish dropped their lines and swam away. He kicked at the three koi, hoping to knock them back enough to figure out some other way of shutting them up but the momentum of his movement in the underwater gravity caused him to topple backwards—

—and land heavily on his back on his bedroom floor.

"Wha," he groaned and slowly opened his eyes. He waited until his eyes adjusted to the sunlight filtering into his room before freeing his legs from his bed sheets. Once he was free he climbed back into bed and sighed as he debated whether to go back to sleep or get up and dick around on his computer for a while.

A shrilly noise from the vicinity of his night stand made him flinch and he swore aloud. It was the same noise from his dream and turned out to be his cell phone ringing. His hand flopped out and hit the phone once before his fingers grasped it, hit the accept button, and brought it to his ear.

"This had better be good, Clyde," his voice grumbled, made lower than usual from being sleep-heavy.

"Aww, did I wake His Majesty?"

Craig growled in response.

Clyde chuckled. "Okay, okay. Listen, there's this party in North Park. Kev and I need a lift."

"No," Craig dug the palm of his hand in his right eye.

"Come on! We've got cash this time."

"How much?"

"$35," Clyde sang.

Craig groaned and sat up into a cross legged position on his bed. "What time do I need to get you guys?"

"About six? Kev and I are playing b-ball with these dudes from the rec center team," he could hear Clyde's grin over the phone. "It's going to be sweet."

Craig let out a colossal yawn and idly scratched his bare chest before sighing in defeat. "All right but I want to leave before midnight."

"Midnight! Come on, Craig!"

"Any later and that's six hours of sleep I'm missing out on, dipshit," Craig spat back bitterly and brushed some of his hair from his eyes.

"I'll throw in an extra five."

Craig rolled his eyes. "I'm leaving by midnight whether you're in my car or not."

"Come on, Craig," Clyde whined again. "You never know. Maybe something good will happen for you at this party tonight?"

Craig snorted. "Doubtful."

He hung up the phone.


	3. My Buddy and Me

From the Mess to the Masses

03: Bus

Scenes from the summer between Junior and Senior year in high school.

* * *

><p>"Craig."<p>

Craig grunted in response.

"Seriously," Stan stared open mouthed at the flashing computer monitor, "what the fuck _is_ this?"

"_Gatchaman_," Craig stated as if it were common knowledge. Stan shot him a baleful look before twisting in Craig's computer chair back towards the screen. They were holing themselves up in Craig's room watching some of Craig's anime on one of their days off together. He had a fairly extensive collection of DVDs and downloads mostly consisting of older classics and ones with too large of a cast for Stan to keep up. He knew Craig had a long standing love of the old series _Red Racer_ but the way he was acting as they gradually made their way through his collection was really quite hilarious.

Stan had settled himself in Craig's computer chair backwards so he could prop his arms and head on the back of the seat without getting a crick in his neck. Craig was sprawled diagonally across his bed on his belly. He actually had his head propped up on his hands with his knees bent and ankles crossed. Bottles of soda and ripped open candy packaging were strewn on the comforter in front of him but easily accessible to Stan.

"Holy shit," Stan laughed. "Did they just show people bouncing out of the hull of that ship like a couple of bouncy balls?"

"Yeah," Craig sighed wistfully around the Red Vine in his mouth, "they don't make 'em like they used to."

"I could get into this one, dude," Stan reached over and plucked a Vine from the ripped open package in front of Craig. "Except, is that bad dude wearing purple lip stick?"

"You should see the _Sailor Moon_ shit," Craig laughed without removing his eyes from the screen.

"You have _Sailor Moon_? Isn't that… like… kinda girly?"

Craig snorted. "It's actually very addictive and a hell of a lot of fun to make fun of in the right mood."

Stan nodded and the two stayed silent for a scene. "The animation's not too bad looking."

Craig's eyes flitted in his direction briefly. "It's one of my favorites."

"I can see why," Stan arched his back in a huge stretch as the episode ended. "There's more, right?"

Craig smirked and chewed on another Vine. "As many as you can stand watching."

"Cool," Stan grinned and leaned in as the next episode started.

* * *

><p>"And then I told Larry that he could take his findings and shove 'em right up his ass! How's that for a good story?"<p>

Craig didn't know what to say.

"Randy, you're horrifying the poor boy," Mrs. Marsh smiled at Craig and moved about the kitchen. Craig blinked in response. He had no idea what was going on. One minute he was waiting for Marsh to clock out so they could go to his house to play video games then the next he was seated at their breakfast table watching Stan and his mom doing _fuck_ if he knew while his dad sat drunk next to him.

"Yeah, yeah," Mr. Marsh stood up and idly scratched at his stomach. "I'll be in the living room. Don't forget to get me a plate."

Craig followed his exit with his eyes before turning his head towards Stan and his mom. "Plate?"

Stan turned towards him and Craig wondered when it was he walked into his own episode of the Twilight Zone. Stan Marsh, popular jock, was standing in front of him wearing a goddamned apron and holding a spatula in one hand with a chocolate covered whisk in the other.

"They're almost done," Stan looked at him.

Craig was beginning to feel apprehensive. "What's almost done?"

"Cupcakes," Stan blinked.

"Cupcakes," Craig repeated.

"Cupcakes," Stan said with more resolve.

Craig stared at him. Stan looked back.

"What? Can't a guy bake?"

Craig continued to stare.

"You don't want one?" One of Stan's eyebrows rose.

Craig opened his mouth, closed it, and then gritted his teeth.

"Damn straight I do."

* * *

><p>"Empire."<p>

"Menace."

"Empire."

"Menace, you fucktard."

"How the fuck is that the best? Because technically it's the first?"

"No, asshat."

"It was terrible!"

"Was not."

"Three words: Jar Jar Binks."

"Two words: Darth Maul."

"…"

"Say you're sorry."

"No fucking way."

"I'm waiting."

"…Empire."

"God_damn_ it! Menace!"

"Why does it look so funny?"

Craig sighed around his spoonful of Applejacks. "It's just the style they went with. Don't over analyze it, Marsh."

Stan watched in silence for a few minutes. "They look so freaky."

"Christ, Marsh," Craig dropped his spoon into the bowl with a noisy clang. "The story's awesome so just shut the fuck up before I stop this and plug in the card capturing one again."

Stan gave him an exasperated glare.

"In Japanese," Craig enunciated with a glare of his own. "No subtitles."

Stan blanched and sunk lower into the makeshift seating they assembled on the floor of Craig's bedroom. "Fine, fine, it just looks weird."

"Give a few episodes," Craig said as he scooped some more cereal up with his spoon. "It'll grow on you."

Stan snorted. An hour later Craig had to forcibly tackle him to the floor just to shut him up about how awesome _Gilgamesh_ was.


End file.
